An ordinary crime-day
by DarknessLover89
Summary: Sometimes we just need a bit of motivation to change a boring day into an interesting one. Nothing new for a consulting detective and an ex-army doctor, too busy fighting crime and strengthening their bond. A little story about an ordinary day of two not-so-ordinary people. (WARNING: Gender bender don't like don't read ;D )


**Sometimes we just need a bit of motivation to change a boring day into an interesting one. Nothing new for a consulting detective and an ex-army doctor, too busy fighting crime and strengthening their bond. A little story about an ordinary day of two not-so-ordinary people.**

**Sherlock Holmes belongs to BBC and Arthur Conan Doyle!**

**To avoid confusion here are the names that will show up:  
Sherlock Holmes = Sherly Holmes  
John Hamish Watson = Joan Haley Watson  
Molly Hooper = Mark Hooper  
Greg Lestrade = Grace Lestrade  
**

**This is just a little RP between me and my friend ShaLon which we decided turned out to be so good, we made a OneShot out of it!**

* * *

"Dull", murmured Sherly, lazily slouching on the sofa and not really listening to her client.

"Please, Miss Holmes, you need to help me", begged a young woman named Lucy Stampton; she was about twenty years old, middle sized, and wore long brown hair, her outfit was quite skimpy, and Joan wondered why Sherly wasn't complaining about it yet, but she seemed to be so lost in her thoughts that the blond wasn't even sure if she was actually aware about the presence of the person who wanted to consult her.

"Why? Scotland Yard can solve a case alone, for once." She uttered flatly while shooting darts at the wall in front of her.

"But I don't trust Scotland Yard, they just think she's some worthless prostitute, but that's not true, she was my best friend and I want to see the one who did this to her rotting behind iron bars!"

Finally, Lucy got the attention of the consulting detective. "I see, that sounds interesting. I'll take the job. Tonight you'll find that murderer in prison."

"Oh, thank you Miss Holmes, I'm so…"

"Yeah, yeah. See you later." Sherly interrupted her by pushing her out towards the staircase while Joan just frowned and was wondering why all of a sudden the woman was taking the case. Before she could ask, Sherly had already gone in the kitchen and was completely absorbed by her experiments again.

"Shouldn't you be working on the case instead of doing another experiment?" No answer. The ex-soldier sighed annoyed and decided to prepare some tea, and when she passed by the brunette, said woman slapped hard on one of Joan's butt cheeks. "Hey!" She complained.

"It was for an experiment." Sherly defiantly answered and turned her attention back to the microscope.

"What kind of an experiment is that?" Joan whined while rubbing her aching butt.

"How a butt cheek reacts by being slapped at a certain speed with a certain strength."

Joan's eye was twitching from rage. God was really testing her patience with that woman. "Okay, and why is that necessary for you to know?" The blond tried to sound as calm as possible, however she had such a threatening tone it would have scared anyone, anyone except Sherly, who seemed to be afraid of nothing.

"Isn't it obvious, Joan?" Replied Sherly, raising an eyebrow.

"No, maybe to you but not to me, Sherly!" She was already starting to calm down a bit, for some reason she couldn't be mad for long at the brunette detective. After all it was just a trivial thing Joan got angry about.

"Oh, try to think for once! The victim has been found dead in a secluded place not far from a BDSM club. From the signs on her rear she's been violently slapped multiple times but there's no coincidence between the time, the location and the things she was doing before her demise. What can you deduce about this?"

Now the woman stared at her companion with a confused look. "How should I know, I haven't read the newspaper yet but, uh…maybe she was tortured? Or had... you know, SM?" The last words made Joan swallow hard. She felt a bit uneasy about that topic. "At least now I know what our client meant with 'they think she was a prostitute'."

Sherly rolled her eyes in annoyance, although it amused her how her flatmate reacted to that topic, and it was possible dirty thoughts were already spinning in her mind. "Let's go to the morgue, I need your professional opinion on the status of the victim's body." The detective grabbed the doctor by an arm and carried her down the stairs.

"Whoa... hey wai..." Joan tried to protest. "uh, never mind..."

Sherly called a taxi, and once the two women entered the vehicle, she glanced at Joan. "I can read from your expression you have a lot of questions. Feel free to ask them after we arrive there and you give me your opinion."

Joan was deeply sunken in thought. "A BDSM club, huh?"

Sherly didn't answer, she was too lost in her own thoughts and deductions, then she murmured something.

"Ah, sorry? Did you say something?" Asked Joan.

"Oh? Nothing, Joan. Just pondering", she replied, and casually gave Joan's hand a quick pat.

"I was just thinking", said Joan, nervously playing around with her fingers, "That club, I mean, why would people do that? I know there are most likely masochists there, but are they really that sick that they would torture someone to… death?"

Sherly couldn't help but feel amused again, over her flatmate's innocent behaviour. "You're so naive, Joan. Call it masochism; call it perversion; that is merely a sexual preference. And people are becoming more open-minded about enjoying said preferences. No one would do that much. No one would enter such a prestigious club to risk years of prison. No, I'm sure the victim had been murdered after."

Sherly gave Joan a quick intense look to see if her colleague was starting to set her thoughts on the same line. "How do you..." Joan blushed intensely. "Yeah, you're right but, uh...could you tell me more about the murder first, I don't even know what happened! Just some poor victim who was in a BDSM club and ended up dying there… Wait a second? Since the SM part has nothing to do with the case why did you slap my…" She briefly glimpsed at the taxi driver. "…you know?"

Noting her colleague blushing, Sherly grinned mentally. "Everything will be clear once we get to the morgue. Don't be impatient, Joan." She winked sassily. "Oh, and I never said the SM part has nothing to do with the case." She added, and then shrugged as if nothing happened. "Plus, I already answered that question. Experiment." The hint of a small smile showed upon her lips.

Joan sighed. "Okay if you insist, but next time you want to do an experiment with me..." Again she glimpsed at the cabbie and lowered her voice. "Next time you could warn me!"

"Oh?" Sherly raised a finger to her lips, feigning innocence. "It didn't look to me like you disliked it that much..." She liked teasing Joan and seeing her reactions. Usually she wouldn't be bothered by such trivial things, but since the doctor entered her life, something seemed to soften inside her.

"Could you please lower your voice and stop that teasing, you..." Joan was interrupted by the cabbie who told the women they arrived at Bart's. The two went to the morgue to take a closer look at the dead body.

Finally at the morgue, Sherly totally dropped her joking attitude. She needed to focus her senses to the best. She entered the room basked in white light and got closer to the corpse that Mark had already put out for her and Joan to examine. She walked past the pathologist, barely greeting him and quickly talking about work. "What time did it arrive here? What are the autopsy's results?"

"It came in yesterday about five o'clock, it all happened an hour before she came in and the cause of death was asphyxia. The woman, early twenties, has been strangled to death, no fingerprints on her neck; however you can clearly see the bruises." Mark explained a bit nervously. Sherly's presence always did that to him.

"So the murderer was wearing gloves?" Joan assumed.

"Hm." As the poor information came to her ears, Sherly started examining the corpse, not letting any tiny detail escape her critical analysis. She took out her lens and started walking slowly around the body, then put on her nitrile rubber gloves. She took a sample of dirt from the skin from her claves, a bit around the neck and under the fingernails. Another quick look, then she stated: "I need to get these samples to the lab, I actually have four, no, five hypotheses. But first, I'd like to hear your opinion, Joan."

"What? My opinion? No, not this again…" Joan tried to avoid letting herself be humiliated but she couldn't resist that stupid puppy look which Sherly gave her. Annoyed, the blond sighed and took a closer look to the corpse. "Hm, she's in her early twenties, like Mark said, she was obviously strangled, there are a few bruises and some dirt on her neck, it also looks like she tried to fight back, there are some traces of skin under her fingernails and also some unknown dirt, maybe the person who attacked her is working at a building site or some other job where you get dirty? She was found near a BDSM club, so I assume the murderer could be a jealous friend of her, or a husband, but she doesn't wear a wedding ring. I think that is all I can say..."

Sherly half-smirked. She was genuinely surprised. Joan was getting better with practice. "Good." She asserted, crossing her hands behind her back. She directed her gaze at Joan, and for a second there seemed to be a warm sparkle in her eyes. "But, as always, you forgot something. Remember: there's always something, and that something might be of vital importance. Here, her calves have long thin bruises encrusted in dirt. She's been dragged for several meters. The skin on her ring finger is lighter, which means she was married, no, engaged. She was wearing an engagement ring. Did she remove it before entering the club? No. Someone took it. The murderer, most probably. She didn't fight back. She followed the murderer because she trusted that person. The skin under her nails will not belong to the culprit, same goes for the DNA we can find all over her body. The murderer thought it was clever to side-track us, waiting for his victim to exit a club where people indulge in sexual pleasure, hence coming in contact with each other, exchanging bodily fluids and making it hard for Scotland Yard to find the killer in a short period of time. Time that the culprit will put to good use. Any observations?" She asked smugly, tilting her chin up.

"Right, thank you for correcting me..." Joan answered, surprised as always, no matter how often she had witnessed Sherly's deductions, she always had the urge to scream 'fantastic!'

"Maybe one of you wants some..." Mark tried to offer the two women some coffee, but Joan interrupted him.

"I guess we are finished then? Oh, sorry Mark, you wanted to say something?"

The man sighed inwardly. "No, nothing."

"To the lab, then". Sherly strode quickly towards the exit, grabbing Joan by her wrist, and as she walked past Mark she said "The new razor is killing your skin, Mark. The old brand was better".

"Tha... okay... I think" Mark yelled after the two women, however he was whispering the last part.

"Could you stop that already?" Joan whined and freed her from Sherly's grip. "I can walk on my own, you know. And don't you think you could be a bit politer to Mark? He's a really nice guy, you know. He always helps us out although it's not his job."

Sherly stopped as Joan abruptly freed her wrist from her grip, then turned around, slightly annoyed. "It was to spare time. I was just making sure you'd follow me at the same pace". Well, that could sound like the lame excuse of a five year old, but after all, Sherly was rather childish in her behaviour, and Joan knew that very well. "Regarding Mark, it's not like I insulted him. Plus, if I ever tried to act nicer towards him, he could start developing strange ideas. You know what I mean, you're a woman. And he's that kind of hopelessly romantic guy. I don't need that. His help is valuable, though. But he doesn't seem to hate me just because I state the truth. So, what is your problem, Joan H. Watson? You've been acting grouchier than usual, today." She obviously knew what was wrong, but instead of spitting her deductions in her colleague and friend's face, hence avoiding angering her even more; she just crossed her arms, looked sternly into her eyes and waited for the obvious answer.

Joan was shocked, yes, to her own surprise she was shocked, she should have known Sherly would suspect something if she tried to protect Mark, still she had no intention to spill the truth. "Oh, really? I'm acting strange? Well maybe it's just because of the case? That's a really... interesting subject... so, to the lab, right? Come on, we don't have the whole day!" And with that said she started to head towards the lab again, walking rather fast. "Please just drop the topic; please just drop the topic…" She repeated in her head the whole time.

Seeing her companion so flustered, Sherly decided to let it go. It was unusual for her to drop an argument like that. She'd do anything to have the last word, but with Joan, it was different. For some reason, she didn't want to upset her more. She nodded, emotionlessly, and entered the lab, without a word, lost in her thoughts. She took a seat in front of the microscope and started working on the samples she extracted from the body, rapidly becoming absorbed by her work and completely ignoring Joan and her surroundings.

Joan was relieved, she never thought Sherly would really drop the subject so easily, in fact too easy, it gave her the creeps; was Sherly alright? Did something happen to her? Joan shook her head and pushed that thought aside, maybe the one and only consulting detective was just to absorbed by her work and she would just get angry at Joan for interrupting her, so she decided to help the best she could, however she couldn't do much because Sherly was already at the microscope, so the only thing left to do was to let the case run through her head. Who could have done this? If Sherly was right then it had to be the jealous fiancé, but if he had really killed his future wife, why did he take the wedding ring? Maybe it was just a friend of her. The woman probably was a serial adulterer and one of her 'victims' found that out and just killed her for revenge? Joan sighed deeply, are there even enough clues that could lead them to the murderer? And what would Grace say if she found out they were putting their noses in a case from Scotland Yard again without her consent? Of course they had the right to, because they were consulted by the victim's best friend, but Grace still wouldn't be pleased about them interfering.

"I knew it!" Sherly almost yelled; her arms up in the air and a victorious smile on her lips. She was like a child at the beach. "Joan, contact Lestrade and tell her we need a search warrant for the apartment of the victim's boyfriend. I'd just break up in his house, but last time Grace threatened to imprison me for… at least housebreaking, among other things. How boring. Here, take these samples to Mark, you know what do to from there. I'll be back in a couple of hours." As she said so, she quickly put her coat and scarf on and strode out of the lab.

"Wait up!" Joan rolled her eyes, Sherly was already gone, and so she pulled out her mobile phone and called Grace. Joan hoped the silver haired woman wouldn't get too mad.  
"Hello Grace, I need to talk to you... yes and yes, sorry but I couldn't hold Sherly back, she was already experimenting on me! And believe me; you don't want that to happen... Anyway, we need a search warrant for the house of the victim's boyfriend, can you do that? Yes, she already has a clue and I think the case will be over faster than expected. Bye, see you later." With that said, she hung up and brought the samples to mark, just like Sherly ordered.

Meanwhile, a couple of hours and more - actually two hours and a half - had already passed. Sherly had not come home yet, nor had she texted Joan or Grace with any news about the reason of her sudden disappearance. The truth was, in fact, that she had stubbornly headed to the home of the victim's boyfriend on her own, moved by the thrill of the hunt. She had sent Joan to make Mark test the samples just to steal some time, and the search warrant would have come in handy later, when those slowpokes at Scotland Yard would have busted in and found her triumphantly grinning at them. That would have pissed them off so much. Especially Anderson. That good for nothing hag. There had been just a tiny, little problem... once she got into the house, looking for the evidence she already knew she'd find, the culprit had been as sly as to get her by surprise, and now she was closed in some old and mouldy storage-room, tied up and gagged. Nothing to be much afraid of. She had survived worse. She'd find a way out of there, and she'd make him pay for that act of utter stupidity... if only she could reach her phone.

Joan eagerly waited for Grace to call back and lastly tell her she got the search warrant, but as always the Detective Inspector encountered some problems which would hold back the situation, even though the blond was more keenly waiting to finally get a message from Sherly, who had probably already solved the case, but nothing. Not a word, not a call, not even a single text which said something like 'I won'. Something must have happened but on the other hand, we are talking about Sherly, she learned the art of self-defence, so there shouldn't have been any problem, right? "Damn it, what's wrong, I'm tired of this bloody waiting…"

"Some coffee?" Mark offered her to calm down.

"Thanks, but… I guess that will only make me even more anxious."

"Oh, right, sorry…" Mark apologized as he always did, though he didn't need to, it just gave Joan a guilty feeling so she took the cup of coffee and drank it. "You don't have to..."

"No, it's okay", she interrupted. "Why doesn't she text me? I know she loves being all dramatic, but that's just plain cruel now!"

"Maybe you should go to that man's house and ask if he saw her?" Mark suggested.

"Right!" Joan yelled and jumped up from her chair. "At least then I could be doing something! Aw, thank you Mark, you're the best!" Out of happiness Joan gave Mark a fleeting kiss on the cheek and caused him to blush, she was so lively she didn't even recognise what she just did and ran off. She went straight to the house of the victim's boyfriend. As she arrived there, a sullen looking man opened the door and brushed the woman off by telling her that he never saw someone called Sherly, but something in that man's behaviour was fishy. However, she wasn't sure what to do now, if Sherly really wasn't there, where could she have possibly gone?

Sherly tried undoing the knots that were binding her, unsuccessfully. The bastard sure knew how to put that rope to good use. The first thing that came to her mind in all that chaos was Joan. She'd be bloody worried by now, and was probably looking for her... as she always did. And as she always hoped she'd do. No, what was she thinking? She was relying too much on her friend. Friend. Ok, that sounded incredibly stupid, coming from her lips. "Alone is what I have. Alone protects me." She kept repeating that to herself for her whole life, like some sort of mantra that would shield her from the troubles that usually come whenever two individuals get involved in any sort of relationship. People are just delusional romantics that keep betraying each other; no one was worth all that trust. But Joan was different... she...

Her thoughts were interrupted by some sounds coming from the living room. That man, the culprit, was talking to someone. Sherly crawled towards the door and stuck her ear next to the crusty wood. A woman? Could that be...? She sat on her back and started kicking the door with her tied legs, hoping to make enough noise as to be heard.

Suddenly, Joan heard some strange noises from inside the house, reflexively she pulled out her pistol and shoved it under the man's nose, but he was just smirking. "Stop grinning and don't tell me that's my friend in that room over there." The man just kept grinning and didn't reply. "Answer me." Joan threatened him.

"Has your mother ever told you that weapons are illegal here?"

Joan frowned by that sudden 'explanation', but didn't pay much attention to it. "I don't care, let my friend go or I will shoot you!"

"Good, shoot me then." He answered and came dangerously close to Joan, which withdrew a bit. He was convinced, a small blond lady wouldn't dare to shoot at someone but he didn't know Joan at all and that was his mistake.

"Don't come any closer or I will shoot!" Suddenly the hostile man tried to jump at her, but Joan's reflexes were good enough as to shoot the man in the shoulder, and he fell to the floor. The ex-soldier wasn't wasting any thought on that wounded and bleeding man, she didn't even care if he'd die from that shot. She hurriedly ran to a door which seemed to be some kind of storage-room and tried to open it, but it was locked. "Damn it! Sherly? Can you hear me?"

As Sherly kept kicking with all the strength she had in her legs, she could hear Joan and that man shouting from outside. She just hoped nothing bad would happen. That man was dangerous, but nothing an ex-soldier couldn't face... right? She already owed Joan so much. She had saved her ass countless times now. Not like Sherly couldn't manage things on her own, but since that army doctor came into her life, trouble seemed to follow her everywhere. And she loved it. Her adventurous senses were tingling, and she knew that Joan loved crime scenes and breath-taking action as much as her - even though she tried to deny it.

Her thoughts stopped flowing because of the sound of a gunshot and, in a second, she froze. From that distance and with the door in between she couldn't recognize whose gun could have fired... no, it couldn't be... it would be impossible... She never panicked, but for an instant, her heart seemed to skip a beat. She didn't even want to think about the worst possible outcome, so she mentally slapped herself and remembered that the man didn't own a gun or any weapon of the sort - as far as she could assume from her previous researches.

It never happened to her before to lose her composure that way, deep inside it felt like a defeat... but a part of her wouldn't listen. That part made her feel the urge to scream Joan's name at the top of her lungs, but she couldn't because of the duct tape keeping her lips glued. Maybe that was for the best, or she would look even more ridiculous.

"Sherly?" Joan could just make out some moaning but no words, now she was even more concerned than before but that also gave her strength. "Sherly go away from the door!" With all her might, she kicked at the door but it didn't budge, however Joan wasn't giving up so easily and tried again, this time the door flew open and she stormed into the room to her best friend's aid. "Are you okay?" Sherly nodded. "Thank god, you're okay." Joan carefully removed the duct tape and tried to untie her, when suddenly the shot man was standing behind her...

As Joan kicked the door open, Sherly felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Was it because of the danger? Was it because she had come specially to save her? Was it because she was safe and sound, without another bullet hole marking that beautiful skin? Too much adrenaline rushing in her veins. While Joan was untying her, she noticed a shadow behind her friend's back, getting unpleasantly closer. She waited for the right moment, and as the shadow was about to strike a blow, she looked at Joan, deep in her eyes and shouted: "Strawberry Jam!" As the code-word escaped her lips, Joan ducked laterally and kicked the man in the knees, throwing the gun at Sherly who was now free and standing in the middle of the room as nothing had happened.

She pointed the gun at the man, who dropped his blunt weapon and surrendered, while Joan was keeping him still by twisting his arms. Suddenly, Joan's phone rang. "Bad timing..." The blond took out her phone and observed the screen. "Uh-oh, It's Lestrade!"

"Good. Tell her you are still waiting at Bart's, I'm sure Mark will give you an alibi. I'm going to tie this bastard up."

Joan nodded and ran outside so the man couldn't impede her call, so she answered the phone and told Grace as she was told to. "Now please, tell me you finally got the search warrant, did you? Great. What, you're almost there? What, no, of course I'm not at that house, I'm still at Bart's waiting for that damn warrant. I know, Sherly might have already caught that guy or something. No, she hasn't texted me yet. I'll meet you there. No? Okay, then tell Sherly I'll be waiting at home, bye." The doctor hung up and ran back into the house to tell her friend the news. "Grace said they'll be here any minute. Well, I'll wait at home then."

"Got it. See you later", Sherly answered, and she couldn't suppress a soft chuckle, then she totally changed expression. "And you", she hissed to the culprit, grabbing him violently by the hair. "Someone shot you out of nowhere. This is what happened. This is what you will say if they ask you how this cute little hole has found its way through your fat, repulsive flesh".

The man nodded weakly, visibly scared. "Good", asserted Sherly, adjusting her coat, putting on her scarf and regaining her composure. "Oh... uhm... Joan?" She added, not removing her eyes from her coat as she was buttoning it up. "You... did well." She'd never been good at this. "Thanks". She whispered quickly.

Joan couldn't help but smile. She knew it wasn't easy for Sherly to show feelings and let her sociopathic side drop but even thanking her, made the ex-soldier really happy. "Why do you always run off on your own? You should have informed me and everything would have been fine, but we all know you're an idiot, right?" She said teasingly. "Well, anyway, see you later." She tiredly waved her hand and run off.

At that appellative Sherly frowned, but that day had been hard and she just looked like a kicked puppy. She wanted to appear offended, but she couldn't keep her cold mask on for too long, not after all that happened in those few hours, not in front of Joan. She just bent up her lips in that rare half-smile that made her look human and walked out the door, waiting for the Yard team to arrive.

Two or three hours later - Joan wasn't sure anymore, she lost count after a while - , Sherly had finally come home. "So? He was the murderer, right?" The doctor asked, genuinely curious to know everything about the details she had missed.

"Of course he was the murderer, and I bet you want to know why he did it." Joan nodded fervently. "Well, you were indeed close with your deduction; the man was really working on a building site; that's where the dirt came from: cement and bricks. I already suspected that when I looked at the victim, but I wanted to be sure after examining it. We had plenty of time, I said from the beginning that this case would have been easy to solve, even for Scotland Yard alone."

"Yeah, but why did he do it? Out of jealousy?"

"Yes, he was working the whole day at the building site and she hadn't a job and just spent her time throwing money out of the window, apparently. When he finally found out about her 'hobby', he understood that she was constantly visiting the club because he couldn't… 'please her needs'."

"And they still wanted to get married?" Joan asked, incredulous. Sherly nodded.

"Yes, the man said he caught her while she was leaving the club, and she told him she still loved him, despite her peculiar 'needs'. He literally saw red: he became even more convinced that the victim was just after his money, and that's when he choked her. He couldn't bear that betrayal anymore, he wanted to get rid of her… and so he did."

"And why did he take the wedding ring?"

"Easy, to sell it."

"What did Lestrade say?"

"Oh, nothing much, the usual stuff, you know. I think Lucy Stampton will be pleased while reading tomorrow's newspaper. And, yet again, we can say 'case closed'."

"Wait, wait, wait! Just one more thing" Joan exclaimed, while Sherly was already jumping on the couch, ready to slothfully get immersed in dark clouds of unknown thoughts, as she did most of the time after solving a case. "Why did you accept the case if it was that easy?"

A sly grin curved the consulting detective's lips, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, her hands clasped together as usual. "Because she said she didn't trust Scotland Yard."


End file.
